


Drinks With Friends

by cilceon



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Dancing, Drinking, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Goodneighbor (Fallout), Slow Dancing, The Railroad (Fallout)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:26:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26110360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cilceon/pseuds/cilceon
Summary: There wasn’t much happening underneath the Old North Church at this hour. Wanderer was leaning back in the couch Tinker Tom had convinced Drummer Boy to help him drag to his makeshift workshop, the fraying fabric scratching the base of her neck as she rested her had against it.Tom had been on a tangent for the last fifteen minutes or so and she had been tuning him in and out as he continued.Wanderer took a deep breath, rich with mildew, dust, and cigarette smoke. Shifting her attention from the man next to her to the rest of the catacombs.The constant whispering of the catacombs draft, the beeping of the code coming through the radio, the clacking of a pencil, the occasional paper flip, all fell into a soft rhythm behind Toms voice. Now and again she could hear the foundation of the church settling.
Relationships: Deacon/Female Sole Survivor, Deacon/Sole Survivor (Fallout), glory/high rise
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Drinks With Friends

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ ME hi there! I have a better & longer version of this fic [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29682549) that you should read over this one. this one's still up for archival reasons

PLEASE READ NOTES

There wasn’t much happening underneath the Old North Church at this hour. Wanderer was leaning back in the couch Tinker Tom had convinced Drummer Boy to help him drag to his makeshift workshop, the fraying fabric scratching the base of her neck as she rested her had against it.

Tom had been on a tangent for the last fifteen minutes or so and she had been tuning him in and out as he continued.

Wanderer took a deep breath, rich with mildew, dust, and cigarette smoke. Shifting her attention from the man next to her to the rest of the catacombs.

The constant whispering of the catacombs draft, the beeping of the code coming through the radio, the clacking of a pencil, the occasional paper flip, all fell into a soft rhythm behind Toms voice. Now and again she could hear the foundation of the church settling.

Morse was the only agent really working right now, Dez and Carrington were playing a game of makeshift chess as they discussed upcoming runs and went through safehouses in hushed murmurs she couldn’t make out over Tom. Even through all their bickering, there were times like this where they got along. They didn’t hate each other, no. But their different views and morals always took the high ground over their friendship.

“So that’s what I’m sayin’ man, that’s what _I’m sayin’_!” Tom waved his arms in the air from his seat, whacking her shoulder as he often did. “So, if it was so tasty, as you proclaim, why isn’t there any bottles anywhere?”

She stared at him for a moment. Their conversation had been going on all together for an hour now, Wanderer wasn’t quite sure when it had shifted to an interrogation. It must’ve been when she was trying to listen to Dez’s voice. “Cause strawberry was only out for Valentine’s Day when I was like sixteen, Tinker. It was a limited time thing to boost nuka-cola sales dur-”

“Woah woah woah. Hold up, hold up. _Valentine’s Day_?” He was squinting at her now, his arms folded over his overalls in speculation.

“It was a holiday like Halloween, but it was about showing people you loved them. You gave people chocolates or flowers or stuffed animals.” It was always a gamble when she mentioned something pre-war to someone who wasn’t a ghoul. She either got a crazy look or was asked to explain what she said several times. A dangerous thing with Tinker Tom, who often asked for the latter which left the two of them falling down a rabbit hole, sometimes for hours, much to the chagrin of the other residents of the catacombs. But the rest of their ragtag family didn’t seem to mind right now.

Wanderer felt bad for riling Tom up like this, but it was so easy to do and often entertaining. If she was being honest with herself, it was nice to have someone who was so… energetic about the past.

Deacon was like that too, though not to Tom’s extent. He limited himself to no more than three questions at any given time. Tom, on the other hand.

“Okay so, you got some dead thing…stuffed it…then gave it to people?”

“What? No! Like a teddy bear Tom!” She was thankful that no one in HQ was asleep I their general area, the sharp rise in her voice would’ve woken them immediately.

Before he could respond, Glory cut in. “Okay Tom, times up.” She clapped her hand on his shoulder with a loud smack as she leaned over the back of the couch between them. “I’m snagging Wanderer.”

“You are?” The two of them said in tandem.

This was the first time Wanderer had ever seen Glory in something other than her armored coat. Her jeans were the same but now she had a loose-fitting flannel with the sleeves rolled up on. The amount of muscles she had? Terrifying. She made another mental note not to piss her off.

Glory extended her hand to her. “Yep. We’re going drinking.”

“We are?” Wanderer repeated, Tom sank into the couch as to hide from Glory stretching the offer to him.

The heavy cocked a smile his way before turning her attention to Wanderer. “I owe you some drinks for helping out the synths with Randolph.” Glory slung her arm over Wanderer’s shoulder and walked them towards their lockers in PAM’s room, Carrington sparing the pair a glance as they went behind him, snapping his eyes back to the board in front of him when Desdemona let out a snarky “Checkmate.”

“Come on. It’ll be fun.” Glory gave her a light shove as they crossed the threshold to the small room, PAM looked to be in her sleep mode, or was ignoring the two, Wanderer couldn’t tell.

“Is Dez okay with this?” She did want to have a night where she wasn’t worried about being shot, but she wasn’t sure an angry Desdemona would be worth it.

Glory nodded against her. “Oh, I got an all clear. She knows we can handle ourselves out there.” With another shove she continued, “Now go put on something nice, really dazzle me.” Glory wiggled her fingers, sitting on the bench with a defiant humph.

Wanderer opened her locker and stared at the neatly folded contents as Glory bent over to rety one of her boots. She had a few changes of clothes for different undercover ops Dee and her would go on or if it started raining on the way back to base…but nothing really _dazzling_. “I don’t have anything super fancy Glor- Oh! I have this!” She held up a laundered pale blue dress for the other woman to see. The cotton material was a softness she had almost forgotten, she was worried she’d ruin it with her touch.

There were no blood stains or holes in it, Wanderer noted as she aired it out with a shake of her wrist. A ping of sadness waved though her.

“Cute. Not my style but very… you. What about shoes?” Glory mused.

Wanderer hesitated. “I mean I have a pair of heels from that one job in the upper-stands, but how far are we going? If we get into trouble and I’m in these? I’m likely to break something and you’ll have to carry me back here.”

“Goodneighbor.” Glory waved her hand dismissively, “Wear the shoes, Wands. The way there should be cleared out by the time we head out.”

She began taking her shirt off to change, glancing over her shoulder as she spoke. “Why would it be clear?”

“Ah, we’re not going to be drinking alone.”

The walk there went without incident. Wanderer didn’t trip over a single pothole or giant crack a single time. The two women were almost to the main gate of the settlement when Glory spoke up. “Hey, Wands?” There was a layer of gentleness in her voice that Wanderer wasn’t used to hearing from Glory.

“What’s up?”

“Last time I took a synth to Amari, she asked about you. Didn’t go into details but she mentioned that you saw some shit you didn’t add to the Kellogg report for Des.” When Wanderer didn’t respond Glory slowed her steps and continued, “I know you’re a tough son of a bitch, but are you okay?”

“Ask me again when I have a drink or four in me.” Wanderer didn’t look from the buildings as she spoke, Glory could always read her like a book.

“Fair enough. Ah I almost forgot. Deacon’ll lose his shit if we use our names. So tonight, I’m Jenna. Hope you don’t mind but the boys are going to call you Charlie since half the town knows the General of the Minutemen.” She pushed the gate open, Goodneighbor had a feeling that could only be described as Goodneighbor itself. Especially at night. No on scared who you were if you minded your own business.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” It wasn’t until they were fully inside the city that Wanderer felt like the dress might be too much. She became fully aware that the hem of the skirt only went a little past her knee, and that she hadn’t had this much sink showing in the city of misfits before. “Maybe the dress was overkill Jen.”

“Oh, shut up. You’re beautiful and everyone in this shit hole knows it.” Glory nodded towards Daisey in greeting as they continued. Her companion laced her arm in Wanderer’s as they continued, which caused the latter to smile softly. Glory wasn’t much for affection but keeping her friends safe from prying eyes was a different story.

“Well Charlie,” The ghoul called out after them as she was closing for the night. “Look at you dressed like you stepped right out of a post card.”

“Thanks, Daisey!” She called out. “You’re always a sweetheart!” A blush spread over Wanderer’s- Charlie’s cheeks. She was Charlie tonight, getting drinks with her coworkers. Her friends. She turned to Glory. “So, who else is gonna be joining us tonight?”

She assumed Deacon would be there, he had been uncharacteristically absent from the church all day, telling her that morning that he ‘had a hot date with an atomic blonde from the Fens’. She had shaken off the underserved sting of jealousy that his words gave her. He was getting intel from someone in Goodneighbor who may or may not be an attractive blonde woman, that was one hundred percent not her dark brown-haired self.

She wanted to slap herself upside the head. Irma. He was going to the Memory Den to talk with Irma. Charlie’s cheeks flushed but she chalked it up to the chilling night air and not her embarrassment.

They were to the door of the Third Rail now, Glory walked through the entrance as she responded. “I’m hoping for a certain three of our friends.”

“Please let it be Carington, Carington, and Doctor Carington.”

She got a snort of a laugh in response.

The bouncer was at his usual post. “How you doin’ Ham?”

“Never seen you dressed up before, Miss Hale.” _Miss_ … She bit her check to stop herself from correcting the ghoul. Well, she wouldn’t really be correcting him, would she?

He looked her up and down deliberately taking his time. “Mayor Hancock would be hurt if he knew it wasn’t for him.” That comment gained a quizzical glance from her companion.

It was Charlie’s turn to laugh. “Oh, he’d live. Come on Jenna, don’t wanna keep our friends waiting.” She turned to Ham before they walked down the stairs, towards Magnolia’s voice. “Take care Hammy, see you on the way out.”

Halfway down the stairs Glory spoke, her arm still entwined with hers. “Are you and Hancock-”

“Oh god no, John’s just John.”

“John huh?”

Charlie nudged her playfully as she rolled her eyes. “Shush. He’s just a friend.”

She scanned the room for familiar faces, or sunglasses, and stopped when a hand shot up from a corner table excitedly. Drummer Boy. High Rise was next to him, quickly standing up from his spot. “Lookin’ good Charlie. You too Jenny.” He took Charlie’s hand and spun her, earning a few glances from other patrons of the bar.

Glory took the seat next to High Rise’s with a roll of her shoulders. “I always look good H. Long time no see Daniel.” She gestured to Drummer Boy.

Drummer nodded from across the table. “You know me, always busy.” He didn’t have his hat on, and his jacket was draped over the chair he was in. At a first glimpse Charlie wouldn’t have recognized her friend. “How’ve things been at the old homestead?”

From an outside point of view no one would be able to tell they had seen each other only a few hours earlier. But that was the point after all.

Charlie tuned out Glory’s response, she was scanning the room for a pair of sunglasses.

“He’s haggling White Chapel of the top shelf stuff.” High Rise explained when he noted her search. He gestured towards the bar where a man in a faded button up shirt was facing away from them, leaning, and talking enthusiastically with the Mr. Handy. “Though I think he got a little bit sidetracked. Classic Jay.” Classic Jay, in his classic converse. Their blue faded to the same tint of her dress.

“Man’s got the attention span of a bloatfly.” Glory sighed while High Rise slung an arm over her shoulder. Charlie new that Glory worked with Ticon before moving into HQ, but this was the first time she had seen the two together. “Hey Jay!” Glory called out. “We have things to celebrate! You gonna keep us waiting?” Glory snapped her fingers in quick succession as she spoke.

Deacon didn’t turn his attention from the bartender as he responded, he just waved his hand in their general direction. “I’m having a conversation here! Yeesh.”

Glory rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to say something, but Drummer beat her to it. “Boo!” He cuffed his hands around his mouth. “We! Want! Drinks!”

High Rise joined in, calling over Glory. “It’s a crime to let these beautiful ladies go unattended!”

Charlie stifled a giggle while Glory put her hand on her face and shook her head. “I’m sure he’s trying his best guys.” Charlie said just loudly for the table to hear but not her friend on the other end of the room.

Grinning, Drummer’s hands returned to his face, “His best sucks!” He then lowed into a not so quite whisper. “That’s not true.”

Wanderer hadn’t seen him this loud or energetic before, it was out of character for the head of the prized runner and dead drop system. Then it dawned on her, these two had already started drinking before the ladies arrived. She shouldn’t be surprised. Deacon had mentioned once that he thought Drummer Boy was ‘the lightest lightweight’ but she had assumed he was well…lying.

The man had a stack of glasses in his hand now as White Chapel handed him a large brown bottle and two nuka-colas that he somehow managed to hold the necks of in the other hand. Deacon gave a nod to the robot and lifted the glasses up in a cheers motion before turning around and walking towards the four of them.

“Would you two quite down. You’re gonna get us kicked outa here.” Despite his chastise he was smiling. Deacon took the empty set next to Charlie, setting the contents of his hands on the table with a clank.

“Aw we aren’t the worst folks in here.” Drummer snagged the stack of glasses, passing them around the table while High Rise opened the bourbon and took a swig before Glory smacked him upside the head and ripped it out of his hand while Deacon poured cola into the one in front of himself.

Glory sloshed a shot’s worth of the liquor into the other four glasses with notably more in hers then the rest. “Alright. Let’s keep this short.”

The agents around Charlie began lifting their cups into the air and Deacon gave her a nudge with his elbow when she hesitated. Way back when, she wasn’t much of a drinker. That was changing though.

Satisfied with the height of their hands, Glory continued. “To our friend, helping our other friends.” The glasses clinked together, emptied and immediately refilled. Charlie stared into the glass in her hands as Drummer started talking. She was only half paying attention. He was saying something about how much work she had done in the last few months for the Railroad. High Rise chimed in and the two went back and forth for a bit with Glory jumping in now and again.

High Rise said something that pulled out a chuckle from the man besides her. Deacon was leaning his elbows on the table, his chin resting on his laced fingers. That went on for a good hour or so mostly the three of them talking, Deacon chiming in once in a while, and Charlie nodding in agreement while focusing on the glass that Glory would refill if it dropped below a certain point.

Magnolia let out an airy laugh from her makeshift stage, a response to White Chapple or another patron, she didn’t know. “Now I’m gonna sing y’all a song I haven’t done for many folks before, but I think tonight is the perfect time for it.” Magnolia had a soft rasp to her voice that enraptured Charlie every time she heard the woman speak. And now, with the growing amount of liquor, she didn’t clock how rude it must have been that she practically swivelled around to gawk at the performer.

As Charlie did so, her companions boomed with laughter. Glory’s voice rung out. “Didn’t know my story was that boring.”

She looked back toward them, the tips of her ears burning. “M’sorry. Just think Mags has a pretty voice is all.”

 _You sent a photo out your window of Tokyo._ _Told me you were doing fine. You said the cherry blossoms were blooming. And that I was on your mind…_

Couples around the bar stood as Magnolia sang, like moths and she was the flame. Charlie heard High Rise behind her clear his throat and say something to Glory to which the other woman laughed, their chairs scaping across the floor as the pair rose to dance.

Drummer let out a small protest and a sigh before speaking to Deacon across from him. “Well go on Dee, go get her closer to Mags.”

_But I couldn't make you out through the glitches. It's how it always seems to go..._

Heat began rising in her cheeks, “Nah, it's okay!” She said just too loudly, shaking her hands in front of herself, “Really, I don’t mind just listening and I-”

“Scared I’m going to outshine you, huh?” Deacon put a hand over hers to stop her protest, “Come on, I won't make you look too bad. Promise.” As he spoke, Deacon pulled Charlie to her feet with a light tug. The sudden movement made her head dizzy and he had to catch her from falling over.

Drummer Boy let out a laugh, pouring himself another drink. “Even drink I think she can drunk more than you, buddy.”

Instead of answering- or correcting his word order, Deacon turned and led her to the crowd of patrons. His hands not leaving her own.

_You're my wanderer, little wanderer. Off across the sea. You're my wanderer, little wanderer. Won't you wander back to me…_

His thumb ghosted over the back of her palm, callused and rough. Familiar in a way she couldn’t place.

_Back to me…_

“Where ya’ wandering off to in that mind of yours boss?” Free hand resting on the curve of her waist, voice a whisper not to be overheard by the drunks that surrounded them.

Charlie glanced up at him, his glasses mirroring her reflection. A ginger eyebrow just hardly peeking out over the rim. A sliver of the old him, just for her to see. Her fingers brushed over the fabric of his shirt as she set her hand on his shoulder. Strong and safe.

_But if you'll be my bluebird returning. Then I'll be your evergreen. Standing tall on your horizon. Guiding you home to me…_

“You haven't been drinkin’ like the rest of us.” Her grip on Deacon tightened as he spun the two of them gently.

_Guiding you home to me…_

A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth; she couldn’t look away from it. He never smiled like that for anybody else, did he?

“Ah, well you see the bar doesn’t have the good stuff on tap and quite honestly I’m too pretty for anything less.”

_You're my wanderer, little wanderer. Off across the sea._

“You don’t want to let your guard down here.” Her volume matched his own, but there was a pout in her tone that the sober version of her would be ashamed of. “We’re ‘spose to be celebrating.”

“Someone has to keep you out of trouble.” Fingers drummed over her hip.

_You're my wanderer, little wanderer. Won't you wander back to me..._

“I never get in trouble.” She grumbled and Deacon... laughed. It wasn’t the chuckle he gave the table earlier or the cherry on top of whatever lie he was selling. It was airy and sweet, genuine.

_You're my wanderer, little wanderer. How I wish that you could see…_

“Cause I’m always there.” In any other setting he would have said those words after soaking them in sarcasm, but not within their whispers, Magnolia’s voice, and the laughter of the other dancers. Deacon said them like he didn’t want her to hear them. Almost bashfully.

_You're my wanderer, little wanderer. How I need you back with me…_

The hand on her hip tightened. The one on his shoulder did the same. The pair had grown comfortable in moving together in their travels, it was natural for the movements to be mirrored.

_Back with me…_

The liquor in her veins gave her courage to speak out a thought she had been holding in for months now. “You have, haven’t you?” Her eyes darted from glasses lens to lens, searching for an answer she wouldn’t be able to see. “You’ve been watchin’ me since before I even crawled out.”

_But someone's gotta be the lighthouse. And that someone's gotta be me..._

“Mags' does have a good voice, doesn’t she? Nice ‘n smoky.” Deacon glanced around at the bodies that surrounded them, at Glory smacking High Rise on the shoulder not so lightly. Too many people were around them, now wasn’t the place for this conversation.

_And I hope your absence makes us grow fonder. I hope we always feel the same..._

Charlie shook her head, trying to sober herself but only caused the room to spin.

“Woah, Woah. Okay, hands around my neck or your sitting back down.” He moved her limbs before she could process what he was saying. “There we go, all nice and sturdy now.” Deacon’s hands were both on her sides, grounding her.

_You're my wanderer, little wanderer. Off across the sea..._

“I think I drank too much.” Her voice was back to a pout. Fingers lacing behind Deacon’s neck.

He nodded slowly, “We are celebrating after all.” 

_You're my wanderer, little wanderer. Won't you wander back to me..._


End file.
